


Burning Hot and Cold

by nimblermortal



Series: Before They Were Gods [1]
Category: Norse Mythology
Genre: Fire, First Meetings, Gen, Muspelheim, Seidr, wish list
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-13
Updated: 2013-04-13
Packaged: 2017-12-08 08:38:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/759352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nimblermortal/pseuds/nimblermortal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Odin and Loki meet by a river in Muspelheim. Introductions follow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burning Hot and Cold

They were far from childhood by then, but in later years they would look back and agree that they had been only boys. One stood quietly in the bare-branched remains of the trees, watching while the other looked around and then bent over his fingertips, calling light to them. He stayed quiet, watching, as the light changed to a leaf and a flower and a butterfly and a stone, but about the time it became a knife his weight accidentally shifted and the cracking of the earth was enough for the boy squatting by the stream of fire to snap upright, the light dying from his fingers but his hands still raised defensively. He caught sight of the other boy immediately this time, and raised his voice and his fingers to call oblivion upon him.

To his surprise, the boy in the forest resisted. He had never done this before, so he pushed harder, thinking he hadn’t done it right, and triggered a whole mountain of resistance, threatening to fall on him. He backed off in sheer surprise, took an actual step backward, and to his further surprise, the pressure stopped. The mountain didn’t fall. They had returned to how they had been before he tried to defend himself, one boy in the forest, the other standing by the river. The boy in the forest was still blank faced.

“Seidrmadr,” hissed the boy by the lava river.

“You’re like me,” said the boy in the forest at the same time.

They met, without agreeing to, at the same time the next day.

“There’s nothing bad about learning seidr,” said one of them, fiercely. “There’s nothing _wrong_ about it.”

“No,” agreed the other. “I am Odin, son of Borr.”

“Loki,” said the first, grudgingly. “Son of Fárbauti.”

“I’ve heard of you,” Odin said. The world was new, and everyone knew everybody else. “Son of Laufey. I didn’t hear you could weave magic.”

“It’s not difficult,” said Loki. “How did you learn?”

“Freyja Njörthrsdottir taught me,” said Odin. “How did you?”

“I taught myself,” said Loki, sharp with pride and the determination to prove it was not wrong.

“You taught yourself?” Odin asked. “But you’re - _here_.”

Loki looked around. He was sitting by a river of fire, the trees blackened husks, the sky dark with ash and red around it with the bent rays of the sun. Nothing like the ice of Jötunheimr, where he belonged.

“Yes,” he said.

“ _I_ can barely stand here,” Odin said, and it was true, he was still standing, and his shoes were smoking slightly. Loki sat comfortably on the scorched red earth and wondered if he could bathe his feet in the stream. He didn’t quite dare to try.

“You beat me yesterday, though,” Loki said. “How did you do that?”

“I don’t know,” Odin said. “I just tried.”

“Teach me,” said Loki. “If I could do that, I would be a lord among the jötunn, revered by my people - they would have to revere me, with such a weapon at my command...”

“It’s not a weapon,” said Odin.

“It is to me,” said Loki. Odin said nothing, but thought of how he had squatted by the side of the river and made light first, and then life, beauty ever before the knife.

“That reminds me,” said Odin. “Our people are at war.”

“Our people?” Loki asked. “You don’t have a people.”

“I will soon,” Odin said confidently. Loki scoffed. “You don’t believe me?”

“I think I know when to believe people and when they offer me only words,” Loki said.

“All right then,” Odin agreed. “I dare you to come with me and see.”

“What?”

“I am called by destiny. I daren’t linger longer here. Stay and practice your pretty magics - or come with me and see what I find.”

Loki sat and thought. Odin’s shoes smoked, sizzling a little on the hot ground. Loki stood, and the world turned.

“All right,” said Loki, “but not because I believe you’ll find anything. You will teach me that trick of shoving.”

“It is a deal made,” Odin said, and offered his arm to Loki. Loki stood on his own, then stared at what Odin offered. “You shake it.”

“I know that,” Loki snapped, and shook his head scornfully. “You don’t want to touch me. I burn.”

Odin rolled his eyes and snatched Loki’s right arm in his left, bringing it toward his own. “We’re standing in a pit of fire. I may be smoking, but I won’t burn.”

“I burn cold, idiot,” Loki said, but they were already touching. Odin didn’t flinch under his grip, so Loki took his hand and clenched it, burned hard and solid through his skin. Odin’s eyes didn’t leave his. When their gaze broke, with their hands, Loki looked down first, at Odin’s still-whole hand.

“Twice I have beaten you,” said Odin, following his gaze. “A third time and you owe me allegiance.”

“So be it,” Loki agreed, but his eyes smoldered.


End file.
